


Cupid's Bow

by raidelle



Series: Raidelle's Alphabet Prompts [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 06:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15309660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raidelle/pseuds/raidelle
Summary: Nyx imagines how Ignis would look if that perfect mouth curved into a smile instead of a frown. And then he found out for himself.





	Cupid's Bow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eratoschild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eratoschild/gifts).



> The prompt was **Mouth + Elude** for Ignyx.
> 
> Enjoy reading and please let me know what you think. ^^

“What are you doing here? Where is Miss Altius?”

Nyx raised his eyebrows. Maybe if it were another person, the words would have passed as politely impatient. But it was Ignis Scientia asking and the accent and inflection made the questions sound like diplomatic insults, if there were such things.

Nyx decided to go for a civil tone. “I’m Ny --”

“I know who you are,” said the younger man, green eyes blazing like emerald fire. “Where is Miss Altius? She was supposed to be my instructor.”

Okay then. No pleasantries for the prince’s advisor. “Marshal Leonis and Captain Drautos agreed that you should first train with someone who handles similar weapons. So you’re stuck with me for the time being until I say you’re ready for a different challenge.”

A frown was all he got for that one, and Nyx wondered if Ignis knew how to smile. He had only ever seen the Crownsguard at a distance during security meetings and sometimes in the Citadel corridors when they walked past each other. Nyx had never properly looked, to be honest, but during those few times he’s encountered Ignis, his mouth had always been set in a stern line.

Now, with the spitting image of “stubborn, perfectionist” (as was written in Ignis’s dossier) standing in front of him, well… Nyx had to admit that Ignis Scientia was distractingly attractive, frowny lips and all. He certainly didn’t picture almost six feet of lean muscle, when his fellow Glaives talked about “the Scientia kid who never backed down from a challenge.”

Nyx cleared his throat to clear his head. “We can cancel this session if you really want Crowe,” he shrugged. “Or I can ask Libertus to --”

“No, that would not be necessary,” Ignis cut him off. “If both the Marshal and the Captain said this arrangement would be best then…” he gave a shrug of his own, accompanied by a wry smile.

Nyx followed the motion of Ignis’s mouth as it curved ever so slightly upward. Ah, so he can smile then, Nyx thought, then wondered how Ignis would look with those lips in a blissful expression rather than a sardonic one. Then he mentally kicked himself to get his mind out of the gutter.

“Okay,” Nyx cleared his throat again. “Show me what you got.”

Ignis summoned his daggers from the Armiger and assumed a neutral stance: feet slightly apart for better balance, arms loose beside his body to quickly attack or defend as necessary; the daggers were held in a reverse grip, all the more suited for close-range combat. Nyx had to admit that the posture was faultless.

“What are you waiting for?” Nyx said when Ignis stayed immobile in the middle of the practice ring.

That caught Ignis by surprise. His lips parted in a small “o” though he quickly recovered and brought them closed again. Good thing, too, because Nyx caught that “o” and his brain immediately started to supply him images that are definitely Not Safe For Work.

“I thought we were going to spar,” Ignis said. The full frown made a reappearance.

“I said ‘Show me what you got.’” Nyx deliberately laced his voice with authority and challenge.

Ignis looked like he was about to argue and caught himself just in time. He nodded once, took a deep breath, and proceeded through the basic attack patterns of knife-fighting with deadly grace and precision.

After a good ten minutes of the admittedly form-perfect demonstration, Nyx decided to put the Crownsguard to the test. He called forth his kukris and threw one straight at Ignis’s face. To his credit, Ignis only blinked before swiping his right dagger forward to deflect the kukri. Nyx was faster, though, and more experienced so he had already warped toward his weapon and was able to meet Ignis blade-to-blade.

“You’re good,” Nyx whispered, blue-gray eyes glinting with mischief.

To Nyx’s utter delight, Ignis bound his daggers with fire while their blades were still crossed, and the flames licked at Nyx’s wrist. Ignis pushed at the kukri still blocking his dagger; when Nyx didn’t give, he took a slide-step back and brought his left hand in an upward sweep. The dagger painted vermilion ribbons as it whistled through the air.

Nyx again met the blade with his other kukri. “You can already summon fire at will,” he noted. Ignis spun on one foot and slashed on a wide backward arc; the tip of the dagger skidded on the flat of Nyx’s blade. “Why do you need more training?”

“Ice and lightning,” was the only answer.

That made Nyx grin. He threw his kukris to warp to the other side of the practice mat, and as he did so, he summoned both ice and lightning. A contrail of frost and electricity followed him as he materialized a few paces behind Ignis.

When Ignis faced him again, his mouth was curled in a snarl. He launched himself at Nyx with surprising agility, twin daggers aflame and now switched into forward grips for a stronger hammer-fall.

Nyx easily evaded with a carefully timed warp to Ignis’s blindspot. He quickly crouched and swept his legs to topple Ignis, who did so with an annoyingly elegant arch of his back that Nyx didn’t -- he didn’t! -- really notice.

Ignis recovered quickly enough with a rising handspring, but Nyx was immediately there with a short-distance warp. He trapped Ignis’s torso between his legs, pinning the younger man down with his weight and stare. “I think elemancy training with Miss Altius will have to wait. We’ll meet again next Monday, same time.” 

He pushed himself back up to standing with an irritated huff. Nyx didn’t even know why he was in such a mood. Or maybe he did, but didn’t want to admit it l. He turned on his heel and made to leave when Ignis replied, “Next Monday, then.”

Maybe it was the flat tone of those three words, he really didn’t know, but Nyx threw a look back over his shoulder and saw Ignis studying him carefully. Head canted to the side like a jungle cat assessing prey. Nyx could’ve sworn he felt the pressure of that green gaze on his back until he cleared the doors of the training hall.

*****

It turned out that Nyx couldn’t wait until next Monday to see Ignis again. The very next day, he dropped by the training hall in the off chance that Ignis was there. Nyx knew he wasn’t, of course; the dossier gave a glimpse of the ridiculous schedule that Ignis no doubt followed to the letter, but that didn’t stop Nyx from feeling a tiny bit disappointed.

He tried to time his patrols so that he passed by conference rooms during break hours, but he always lucked out. Either the meetings finished early or councilmembers went over their allocated time to speak. He dropped by the training hall again that evening and felt the same disappointment.

Then Nyx was off on a mission for the next two days, out on the Wall to handle another wave of MTs and daemons. It would’ve been laughable if it weren’t so obvious that Niflheim was toying with them.

Nyx came back from that deployment thoroughly exhausted yet keyed up at the same time. He didn’t want to head back to the quiet mess of his apartment just yet, so he went back to the Citadel for… something.

Before he knew it, he was walking down the corridor leading to the kitchens. He honestly didn’t know what led him here. Maybe his body thought he could muster up some of his charm to wheedle Cook into making him a mug of that spiced milk thing that warmed him up like a big, fluffy blanket on a winter night. Yeah, that might be it.

Squaring his shoulders and summoning his most charming smile to fore, Nyx pushed open the kitchen doors --

To find Ignis Scientia removing a batch of freshly baked pastries from the oven. His apron was lightly dusted with flour and confectioners sugar, his hair was mussed, and there was a tiny dollop of red jam on the corner of his mouth.

He looked fucking delectable.

Nyx had to give himself a little shake to steer himself off traitorous waters.

“What are you doing here?” Ignis asked. He looked at Nyx like he had just traded military secrets with the Niffs.

“I’m getting fucking tired of you asking me that,” Nyx snapped. It was only the second time, really, but damnit, Nyx wasn’t in the mood for that maddening superiority.

He didn’t expect Ignis to flinch, though. It was only a few seconds but Nyx caught it and he felt like the biggest jerk in all of Eos.

“Sorry.”

“My apologies.”

They spoke at the same time and that was what made Ignis, finally, finally, crack a smile. “My apologies,” he said again. “But I do have to ask, what are you doing here?”

It was phrased more gently this time, and Nyx’s mood calmed with the new tone. “I was looking for Cook. I wanted to see if he could make me that milk and honey thing with cinnamon and --”

“Lait chaud a la canelle?”

“Yeah, that. Thought it could maybe help me sleep.”

“Well, it’s way past Cook’s duty hours. But maybe you would like to take your chances with me?”

Despite his bone-deep weariness, Nyx raised his eyebrows and waggled them at Ignis. To his surprise, Ignis coughed and blushed. “I meant with the lait chaud a la canelle.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. You know how to make it?” Nyx said with genuine excitement.

Ignis, still blushing faintly, nodded his assent. “It’s fairly simple.” He was already pulling a saucepan from the rack and bottles of ingredients from the cupboard. “Sit down and I’ll make a mug of it.”

Wanting to be closer for reasons that he couldn’t fathom, Nyx hauled himself up on the counter where Ignis placed the tray of baked goods. If Ignis had any objections, he didn’t voice them. He just kept pouring and stirring things into the pan.

Nyx’s eyes were drawn to Ignis’s hands, for a change, stirring and foaming the mixture of milk, honey, vanilla, and cinnamon. It was hypnotic. Nyx chalked it up to fatigue.

“Nyx?”

Wow, his name sounded really nice in that accent. “What?” he said rather absently.

“I asked if you wanted more cinnamon powder on top.”

“Uh, no. Not really.”

Ignis handed him the mug. “Here you are then.”

Nyx took a sip and sure enough, he felt warm and homey and comfortable. “This is really good. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

They stayed like that for a time, Nyx perched on the countertop with his mug of frothy milk and Ignis by the workspace beside the stove.

“I feel like another apology is in order,” Ignis said all of a sudden, breaking the pleasantly sweet silence

Nyx paused from taking a drink. “Yeah?” he hummed, the mug poised between his lips 

“For - for my behavior during our training session. I must admit I wasn’t expecting…”

Nyx finished the drink, placed the mug with a loud thump on the marble, and swung his eyes to meet Ignis’s gaze. “Wasn’t expecting what?”

Ignis looked up and closed his eyes, as if praying for strength. When he opened his eyes again, Ignis seemed resigned. “You. Miss Altius was supposed to be my instructor and instead, there you were and you’re…”

“Hmm?” Nyx grinned. He rather liked where this was going.

“Well,” Ignis paused, clearly discomfited. “You’re you.”

Nyx leapt down the counter and covered the distance between him and Ignis is two strides, trapping the younger man between the counter and his body.

“What does that mean, exactly?” he whispered. He brought his face close enough to Ignis’s that they were sharing breaths.

“You’re all of _this_ ,” Ignis said, trailing a finger down the front of his Kingsglaive jacket. Nyx grabbed that wandering hand, then swiftly moved forward to lick at the corner of Ignis’s mouth where that tiny bit of jam had been taunting him since he entered the kitchen.

Ignis let out a whimper and Nyx dragged his mouth to cover Ignis’s. He brought his hands up from the countertop to cup Ignis’s face, tilting it up and back for better access. It was wanton and wet and passionate -- all tongues and teeth, Nyx growling into Ignis’s mouth when Ignis nipped at his lower lip.

“You taste so good,” Nyx breathed as he licked Ignis’s neck, sucking a mark behind his ear. Ignis made a noise of complaint but pressed Nyx still closer, fingers dragging down the buzz cut and catching on the braids. Ignis used that grip to pull Nyx back to his mouth, pushing his tongue in and swirling it around as if to collect the last traces of honey and milk and cinnamon.

Nyx growled again, which he punctuated with a roll of his hips. Ignis moaned. “You like that?” He repeated the motion and got rewarded with another moan. Then he slid his hands down to Ignis’s shoulders and arms, fingers hot and lingering, before meeting at the small of his back where the apron was tied in a loose bow.

Ignis impatiently removed the apron, then immediately surged up and forward to kiss Nyx again, threading his fingers through the braids once more. Nyx, for his part, started a return trail from Ignis’s back. He flattened his hands as they met on the flat plane of Ignis’s stomach, adding more pressure as he made his way up.

When Nyx undid the buttons of Ignis’s shirt and slid his gloved hands in to caress his chest, Ignis gasped. He pulled his mouth from Nyx’s with a lewd, wet sound, braced his hands on the counter to support his trembling knees, and tilted his head up, panting for air. Nyx took advantage of the position and hungrily laved at Ignis’s neck; he occasionally brushed his stubbled cheek against the smooth column, delighting at the shivers he elicited.

After a final nip and lick at Ignis’s jaw, Nyx dropped his head to kiss shoulders and collarbones next, slowly removing the shirt as he went. When the shirt finally dropped and pooled on the counter, Nyx swooped in to suck on a nipple; Ignis let out a particularly loud and needy moan, thrusting his hip toward Nyx for some measure of relief.

“Gods,” Ignis groaned and Nyx had to smile.

“I’m pretty sure they call me Hero around here,” he said. He didn’t allow Ignis a witty comeback, though. He just continued to lick and kiss his way down, tasting every bit of exposed skin. As he did, he was already working Ignis’s belt from its loops and undoing the button and zipper of the immaculately pressed pants, so that when he finally knelt in front Ignis, all he had to do was --

Holy shit, Ignis Scientia went commando. Nyx felt his own dick, already painfully erect inside his pants, harden and twitch.

“Fuck.” Nyx’s sighed curse sent a stream of warm breath on Ignis’s cock, which made the younger man tremble.

“Well, Hero?” Ignis’s mouth was quirked into a lust-addled smile. What a sight he must have made, kneeling in full Glaive regalia in front of a thoroughly, gorgeously debauched Crownsguard. “What are you waiting for?”

Nyx was strangely aroused at the way Ignis threw his words back at him, and he found that he couldn’t refuse the challenging tone.

So he swallowed Ignis’s cock whole in one stroke, thanking the Astrals for his non-existent gag reflex. He swallowed around the head, and the pressure caused Ignis hands to jump to Nyx’s head. Long fingers curled painfully in his hair as he hummed, and Ignis let out a particularly delicious moan.

Slowly, carefully, Nyx pulled back, keeping his eyes on Ignis all the while. Ignis was struggling to keep his eyes open; his gaze was hazy and his breath was labored, but when he finally managed to lift his eyelids long enough, his eyes burned with desire.

When Nyx reached the head, he closed his lips around it, swirling his tongue as he played with the frenulum. He teased the slit, tasting the bittersweet musk of precome and Ignis’s hips bucked, desperate for more.

Nyx obliged, wrapping a hand around the base of Ignis’s cock, twisting his hold as he worked it up and down. His mouth bobbed in tandem with his hand, bringing Ignis close, closer…

“Nyx, _Nyx_ ,” Ignis’s hips were twitching almost involuntarily, chasing release.

Nyx wanted just a little bit more, though, so he took Ignis fully into his mouth again, his other hand coming to palm his own aching cock through his pants.

A few more pulls from his mouth, a squeeze of the hand, and “Gods, yes…” Ignis sighed before another moan escaped his throat and he simply trembled. Nyx milked him for every last drop, a bitter taste laced with a powdery sweetness that was completely, utterly Ignis in character.

Nyx waited a few moments before he let go to tuck Ignis back into his pants, careful not to let the leather of his gloves brush the sensitive skin. He picked up the discarded belt and, still kneeling, proceeded to loop it back into Ignis’s pants. Only then did he stand up.

“What about you?”

Nyx grinned. “You don’t have to.”

“But I --”

“I’m okay, really. I just…” Here he stopped because he was about to admit to something and he needed time to compose himself. “I wasn’t planning on this happening, least of all here and in this way, but I couldn’t help it and, well… sleep on it all right? Trust me when I say I know how you feel right now. If you still want --”

He wanted to say “me” but he changed course halfway to it. “If you still want it tomorrow, you know where to find me.”

Ignis had a thoughtful not-quite-frown on his face, as if contemplating a reply. Before he could formulate one, Nyx stole a kiss to his forehead and made his exit. “Thank you for the lait chaud… thing.”

“Of course,” was all Ignis could say in a breathy voice.

“See you Monday, yeah?”

Nyx left before Ignis could reply.

*****

When Nyx entered the training hall that Monday night, Ignis was already standing in the middle of the practice mats in the same neutral stance he’d assumed during that first meeting.

“Eager to get started?” Nyx teased.

“You could say that,” Ignis shot back.

But the elusive smile was finally blooming on that damnably beautiful mouth and Nyx knew his answer.


End file.
